


Classical Greek Theater AU, Sean Bean/Elijah Wood

by Rubynye



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-14
Updated: 2010-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:05:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title tells it. Inspired by Mary Renault's <i>The Mask of Apollo</i>. Original ficlet and sequels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [baranduin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baranduin/gifts).



> _**Another RPS AU snippet: Classical Greece (Sean B/Elijah, PG)**_  
> [](http://baranduin.livejournal.com/profile)[**baranduin**](http://baranduin.livejournal.com/), this is for you. *grin* Would it fit on [](http://community.livejournal.com/maryrenaultfics/profile)[**maryrenaultfics**](http://community.livejournal.com/maryrenaultfics/)?

"Stay", the chorus-master had said, so Elijah had remained when the other chorus-boys ran off to their homes or the Agora for their lunches. He stayed, though he grew increasingly bored, wandering around backstage amidst bits of scenery and masks and paintings, measuring the length of the hall from the little gilded statue of Dionysos to the main doors onto the stage. Eventually, Elijah picked up one of the practice lyres and began to tune it, just for something to do. He was growing hungry, and the day was bright outside, but the chorus-master had told him to wait, so he waited.

"Can you play that, boy?" asked a gruffly pleasant voice from behind Elijah. He turned and saw, towering over him, Sean the tragedian, a strong-looking man of middle years with short fair hair and a wide smile. Elijah looked up at him, setting his jaw so he wouldn't gape like a child, and wondered once more how such a large, well-built man was so capable of delicate gestures and precise nuance onstage.

There was a question to be answered, Elijah reminded himself. Perhaps another, in the depths of Sean's green eyes. "I can play the lyre, sir, as befits a gentleman." Which Elijah could not, in truth, quite claim to be, but his father was an honest citizen, and he and his brothers were making their way up from that.

"I see." Sean took a step closer; Elijah felt himself being appraised, and tilted his chin up. "And sing too, from what I hear from the chorus. What's your name, lad?"

Elijah had danced this dance before. He was a beautiful lad, and he knew it; he'd been courted for it for years, but he'd never borne up under such a look as in these vine-green eyes. At this point in the game he should smile, look down, look through his lashes, show some becoming modesty as befits a well-bred lad, but those green eyes made his skin prickle and something like defiance beat in his chest. "I am called Elijah, and I'm not so young as I look, sir. I'll be eighteen in two months, I'll be an ephebe."

"You will, will you?" Sean's smile was thin but not unkind. "' War loves to seek its victims in the young.'" The green eyes softened for a moment as he quoted, then gleamed as they turned back to Elijah. "I am named Sean," he said, as simply as if Elijah didn't know him, as if all Athens didn't know him. "I heard you in the chorus, and I saw you. I decided to speak with you. I am glad I have, if you are thinking to leave Dionysos' service to become a soldier."

Truth be told, Elijah wasn't certain he would take that road, but he would not appear soft or indecisive before any man, and certainly not before this one. "'Onwards, sons of the Greeks! Set free the land of your fathers!'" he recited, pleased at the flare of recognition in Sean's expression. "How better might I serve all my city's gods?"

He'd expected Sean to smile, but instead his craggy face turned stern, almost daunting, and Elijah took an involuntary step back. "There are more ways than war to serve Athene, and there's no need for the olive and the vine to struggle over you." Sean reached up to tug aside the cloak over his shoulder, revealing a long thick scar. "Trust me on this, Elijah."

Realizing his eyes had gone wide as a boy's, Elijah pressed his lips tightly together as he nodded; Sean's expression warmed, and he smiled and caught Elijah's chin between two strong, blunt fingers. "You have fair skin," he murmured, running his pointer finger along Elijah's cheek, "and I would hate to see it scarred in sacrifice to Ares."

Elijah blinked, looking up at Sean like a dazed child. He should tug free, flounce away, insist that great actor or no Sean was taking unwarranted liberties. For all Sean knew Elijah had an established lover. Nevertheless, Elijah found himself leaning into the stroking touch of Sean's hand; Sean murmured, "'o fair young face, may sorrow and death pass by you,'" and the warm roughness of his voice wrapped round Elijah, binding him fast. The sunlight lit up Sean's hair into a crown of glowing gold, his eyes deep green pools of shadow, and Elijah thought for a moment as his head tilted back, that he wouldn't have thought Apollo so _rugged_\---

\----the spell broke; Sean released Elijah with a little sigh. "Have you a lover, Elijah?" he asked, honest and direct. A half-dozen faces flashed through Elijah's thoughts, patient, generous men; six pairs of hands came to mind, all of them ever filled with gifts, cakes and hares, toys and letters. Six men, with all of whom he flirted, to none whom he'd promised. Mouth gone dry, Elijah shook his head.

Sean smiled, brighter than the sunlight behind him. "Well, then, would you dine with me tonight?"

To be asked empty-handed, directly, not coyly; Elijah knew by the game he should refuse, or say perhaps, and turn away giving a hopeful, teasing sidelong glance. Except that….Sean was not empty-handed, not at all; with that scarred shoulder and the poetry in his voice; having been a soldier, being now a great actor, he had Apollo's secrets in his green eyes, Elijah could see them. Elijah wanted that knowledge. And he wanted this man.

Tilting his head proudly back, meeting Sean's eyes with his own, Elijah said, "Yes, Sean, I will."


	2. Another Bean/Elijah Ancient Greek AU bit (rated R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couch talk.

"So, which sponsor do you think will try for you this time?" Elijah tucked himself closer against Sean's side as he spoke, a wriggle of warm, damp smoothness. Sean draped an arm across Elijah's back as he pulled the blanket up over both of them; he slid his hand over Elijah's shoulderblades, feeling goosebumps smooth beneath his touch.

The boy has skin like cream, Sean thought absently, stroking along Elijah's spine, roaming the landscape of flesh and bone. Elijah huffed an impatient little laugh more than half belied by the stretch of his smile against Sean's chest. "Well?" he asked. "Aren't you worried it'll be Hugo or Bernard?"

Sean shrugged, raising a hand to card his fingers through Elijah's hair as the other slipped down further to cup a round firm buttock. Such considerations were for the theater, for the world, for the daytime; right now in his dim nighttime chamber he was far more concerned with the texture of Elijah's hair, the feel of a soft laughing breath warm on his skin, the sound of Elijah's voice as he said, "all right, then, keep your thoughts to yourself."

"It isn't that," Sean murmured, pulling Elijah tightly enough against himself to drive a satisfying little _whoosh_ of breath from him. "At the moment, you are all my thought."

Elijah laughed breathlessly, throwing his leg over Sean's. "And what do you think of me?"

"That you feel good." Sean's hand was at the limits of its reach, but the stretch was worth it, as Elijah trembled, hitched his leg higher, and bucked wantonly into Sean's hand. Smiling at the energy of the young, Sean slid his other hand from Elijah's hair to his cheek, turning his face up for a kiss, but Elijah's words gave him pause.

"Why did you pick me?" Elijah asked, voice steady despite its roused huskiness. Sean blinked, surprised, a little annoyed, quite delighted that Elijah could ask such a question at such a time. "Because you keep your wits, even when they should all be in your prick," Sean replied, and Elijah laughed and gave him the kiss.

However, even as Elijah's lips pressed to Sean's, Elijah's words sparked Sean's thought, and he slid his hand up and away to the small of Elijah's back. Elijah made a disappointed noise, shifting to lie half atop Sean as he said, "I thought you said I can think during that."

"So you can. But I'm not sure I can." Sean ran his thumb along Elijah's cheekbone, tracing its angle as Elijah grinned in the dimness. "Did you not know why I want you?"

"I was curious," Elijah replied, pushing his face into Sean's caress. "Most men who've courted me, even those who've won me, have treated me as a pretty lad, but your first word concerned my wit. I like that." The smooth cheek grew hot beneath Sean's palm, but Elijah spoke steadily.

Sean considered this, and decided to let a better poet answer for him. "'Maiden-faced boy, heedless of my pursuing, yet all unknowing my heart's charioteer.'" Even in the low grey light, Sean could see Elijah's huge eyes widen. "I was fortunate," he explained. "I first saw you dancing in the chorus, a mask hiding this beautiful face. I knew I had to meet you for your grace, for how well you followed the chorus-master's direction, before I ever saw the face that would have made Anacreon sing."

Elijah pushed that face against Sean's chest. "Oh," he said, in a small muffled voice, and, more clearly, "thank you."

"You asked," Sean replied, smiling a little, feeling the little disarrayed tufts of Elijah's hair beneath his hand. One of Elijah's hands crept up his side to trace the scar on his shoulder, but Elijah otherwise lay still for some moments before he spoke again. "It is only just," Elijah said, face still turned away, "that I tell you why I took your invitation." He began to draw nervous hieroglyphs on Sean's skin. "But you'll laugh."

"I will not laugh." Sean took advantage of the dimness to allow himself a grin; Elijah took a deep breath that was just delightful to feel. "You showed me," Elijah said slowly, "you showed me that Apollo has green eyes."

Sean's thought tripped; his hand stopped. "Apollo?" he asked, which made Elijah laugh and raise his head and rest his pointy little chin on Sean's breastbone. "If you will call me beautiful you must endure my thinking you handsome," Elijah retorted, and it was Sean's turn to laugh and resume stroking that dishevelled hair. "The romance of youth," Sean teased.

"The wisdom of age," Elijah replied mischievously, giggling when Sean growled and tugged his hair. "You've much to learn," Sean said, letting his voice roughen as he tipped them both onto their sides, sliding the laughing Elijah into the curve of his arm. "I have much to teach you," he continued, reaching across to the bedside table for the flask.

"I know," Elijah gasped, still half laughing as Sean wrapped an oiled hand round his phallus. "I want you to teach me." Still breathless, but no more laughter. "I want...." Elijah trailed off into a moan as his back arched over Sean's arm, as Sean leaned over him to watch his eyes roll beneath their lids in the dimness, watch his lips part and soften and stretch, watch his brow crease with ecstatic tension. Sean twisted his hand and Elijah moaned louder, shuddering against him, and he smiled, watching the lad's beautiful face.

Despite Sean's earlier compliment, Elijah surprised him a little by speaking again, short bursts of words spaced with gasps. "You asked me, do you remember? If I had a lover, when we met?"

"I remember." Of all the things to recall, and in this moment; Sean wondered why Elijah brought it up, and his heart jerked with something like fear, but he kept his voice light. "Do you?"

"I do now." Elijah's eyes fluttered half-open; his parted lips shaped a smile that wavered into a wordless plea for a kiss. Heart pounding with joy, not trusting his own voice in that moment, Sean closed the last little distance and brought their mouths together.


	3. The Worship of Dionysos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**The Worship of Dionysos (Bean/Elijah, RPS AU, PG, Holiday Drabblething)**_  
> **Holiday Drabble** (Well, Drabble.25)  
> Title: The Worship of Dionysos  
> Written for: [](http://baranduin.livejournal.com/profile)[**baranduin**](http://baranduin.livejournal.com/)  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: Bean/Elijah  
> Warnings: Classical Greek Theater AU, overblown metaphor  
> 

Could one be drunk without wine?

"You were _marvelous_," Sean said proudly, holding Elijah's shoulders. "I have never seen a better first performance."

Elijah laughed, still thrumming with the excitement of the stage. "Truly?" If lapis could glow, it would still have fallen short of his eyes.

"Truly." Hands tightening on vibrating sleekness, Sean could not have said whether Elijah leaped or he lifted him; all he could have said was how hard and hot the kiss was, sweeter than undiluted wine. Sean realized he must be clutching Elijah, and tried to loosen his grip, but Elijah laughed, pressing himself into Sean's hands, tossing his head back on his long fine neck, and without doubt it was Elijah who threw himself into the next kiss.


	4. Maiden Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Career advice, Ancient Greek style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of word processing to do today, which means a lot of drabbles. This one is for [](http://baranduin.livejournal.com/profile)[**baranduin**](http://baranduin.livejournal.com/).Prompts: sea foam, rise, lemon verbena.

Title: Maiden Face  
Setting: Classical Greek Theater  
Rating: PG at most.  
Word Count: 175 (not quite a droubble)  
Pairing: Bean/Elijah

"It's a speaking role," Sean said. "I thought the offer would please you."

"Yes, a speaking role." Elijah cupped his elbows, turning away so all Sean saw was the motion of his shoulder-blades. "As Aphrodite, mincing about." Snorting, he wound his arms tighter. "Sometimes, I almost... Being so small, with this face, I'll never be offered men's roles."

So that was the trouble; Sean smiled. "Is it so bad?" Elijah tensed further. "To play Medea or Agave or brave Antigone?" Elijah turned his head just enough to glare with one blue eye, then sighed; Sean leaned close enough to smell the verbena oil in his hair, but not quite touching. "Aphrodite," he murmured low, his breath stirring the little hairs along Elijah's nape, "rising from the sea, flesh whiter than the foam round her shining feet. You can make them see that incarnate."

"Me?" Elijah sucked in a breath and turned, serious and intrigued, and Sean smiled, watching Elijah's eyes begin to shine. "Remember, only Aphrodite alone can enthrall Zeus," he said, and Elijah smiled.


End file.
